7 degrees was almost tropical for a pre-dawn July, but a south-southwester gave the legs a workout to the Saturday start in the southern suburbs. Pleasing to see numbers up at this time of year, Jase, Wozza, Rocket, Nick, Shorty, PistolPete, SuperMario, Temple, BigMat and AvantiTrev up and about, ready for Saturdays tradition. Seems ages since seeing a few, time and temperature starvation causing a few to suffer saddle depravation (symptoms include shortness of breath and abbreviated turns at the front). Mounds of mown grass were left on the tarmac as chichanes at Channel Rd's end, bearing north returned grins and chat to the bunch with the breeze at our backs. A steady little tap around with familiar folk, comfort in the consistency, serenity in the sociality and enough of the morning left to achieve something. Oncoming pussycats had better patronage today too, but a passing Landcruiser was in grumpy gear, a rear facing spotlight ablase to ruin retinal resolution. Spirits lifted closing in on suburbia (caffine fix imminent) Shorty, (daydreaming of breakfast?) took a sudden swerve to avoid the wheel ahead, quickly sharpening senses and causing a cuss. With newfound concentration, all made a safer b line for the usual Lemontree laziness of catered coffee and cooked breakfast, BigMat's tower run, a GrandFondo and Couldabeens ethics on the discussion list.
Solitude needed on Monday morning (chattering of teeth may have driven others insane) as the mercury dropped to zero, in no fit state to contribute to a bunch. Cats exited their Notre Dame grid just a 100 metres ahead but I was happy to see their tail-lights gradually dissapear and tap out a circuit solo to mentally mull maladjusted maladies. A bit of light fog hung about to dampen specs and arms, even kept the Garmin backlight off to reduce inspiration. Turning into Boundary Rd, a tail light appeared 500 metres ahead, a bait laid to tempt pursuit. I seemed to be drawing closer crossing the highway, enough to divert attention from the Channel Rd lure of a shortcut home. Breaths were like inhaling ice cubes, legs burned internally while frosting externally. Whoever was ahead ramped up their rate in River Rd, I made no progress but the tail-light still begged "catch me". I'd only just held the status quo by central Kialla, content to see out the lap that way rather than thrash the old engine. It's inspiring to see a hint of light in the sky as early as Archer Rd (beats arriving home in the dark), a few winter postcards of fog on the fields to view. Crossed the Conrod finish content, exorcised and excercised.
Cars chilled and crusty parked in the street, trying to make positives on a minus two Tuesday had the mind searching. Reassuring to find eight winter warriors at the starting grid in Archer Rd, Cougar, Rocket, Wozza, PistolPete, Jase, Kenworth (arriving breathless & airbourne), FeltMat and Shane all comparing sub zero temperatures. The fog cleared out of town, a rate of knots duely adjusted to an achieveable arctic setting. Kenworth had as many layers as an onion to insulate from the ice, 10 days off the bike but still pumping out the truck-like torque. My rear deraillier had frozen on the 15, a few changes down then back up again thawed it into action. I'd settled into a trance like state focussed on Rockets' wheel, shutting out the thoughts of penguins, blizzards and polar ice caps. The bunch began to splinter exiting Roubaix corner, I stayed back to lend a wheel for the battlers while Rocket, Kenworth, Pistol and co ignited the afterburners for Conrod straight.
Another well populated peleton assembled at the hospital Tuesday night, despite a fresh 6 degrees. Dalton, Nath, Luke, Robbo, Deano, Bomber, Mitch, AvantiTrev, Axel, Trav & Liam, Kev and Specialised Tony got the wheels turning at 6, keen to put warmth into the legs. Dion, MachineSteve and Trent filled the ranks to 18 rolling out east, Mitch and Bomber adding spice to the speed out to the Emu. A momentary settling of speed beyond the Church gave Bomber itchy feet, launching a break with only Mitch daring to join, the remainder happy to sit and breathe in the iced atmostphere. With far too much MTB time and not enough road bike time, Robbo is seeking shock absorbers for the Cannondale. Had a good chat with Trav and Liam climatising to a 30 degree drop from NT holidays, others feeling winters grip on bike time. A good steady tap along Boundary and River roads, suprised to be in the high 30's while legs guessed it to be much slower. Bomber and Deano departed at Mitchell Rd, Mitch did a Houdini, the bunch remaining collectively adhered, even beyond Roubaix corner when speed built slowly. I struck something on the road (unseen and not called), big enough to get me airbourne, dislodging hands from the hoods (steering with the wrists for a moment whilst vacuum sealed to the seat) and lucky to stay vertical. A few had reached their use-by date in the last few hundred metres of Conrod I had enough left for a dip toward the front, unwittingly leading out young Luke and (almost) young Dion onto the podium. Twas happy with a bronze, happier with wheels still straight and Michelins unmarked from the Crusty Demons manoeuvre.
For nothing but the spice of life, Wednesday begged a circuit of difference, choosing the Goats gathered (and frozen) at Friars at 6. Set forth with Snowman, JohnH & Coggo, Hommy and Sandy almost missing the train. Weaved the streets to get on Old Dookie's course, track turns de rigeur beyond Doyles Rd (when in Rome....) Sandy withdrew from the rotations at Central Ave, I drew the short straw in John's short draft, but the smooth sailing wasn't to be criticised. Coggo called single file turning south into Boundary and, unsure of what ranked a decent dip, I towed them 2.4k before peeling off for recovery, the others seemed happy with shorter shifts. A Breakaway trifecta crested the Broken bridges northbound, a Couldabeens quintet 2k's behind slicing through another minus two atmostphere (feels like minus 5). I donated a three k tow in River Rd (as a thanks for my inclusion) feeling in fine form for a change, comfortable on the 56/13, almost comfortable on the Fizik. I'd inherited the south leg through Central Kialla then eased into Mitchell as the bunch stretched. We'd syncronised a break in traffic at the highway, the troops reassembled for the final 4k drive home. The rubber band stretched again in Conrod straight, I was promoted to the pointy end with 500 left, Coggo, JohnH and the Snowman swarming at my wheel. Happy to yield to their move for the final 100, a frosty lap done with burning legs and frozen skin.
Stooged by the forecast and radar in the early hours of Thursday, the rain's e.t.a. for 4am and a big band of green bearing down on the town at 5 spelled a sleep-in, but the damp didn't turn up till 8. Didn't mind a morning off as it happened, achilles aching from a brutal bout of bubble soccer the night before.
Ignored the little voices Thursday evening hinting at a warm night indoors, no rain and 11 degrees presents a brief window of opportunity in the midst of winter......carpe diem! A slow warm up to coax the swollen achilles into action, down to the Library (narrowly avoiding a t-bone from an unfocussed Focus) to find nine contenders ready for a Toaster loop. A stiff ENE wind promised torture to the Emu but a helping hand home. Nath bolted the start but then stopped short to sort a zero speedo, Robbo (aboard a trial Corsa) and Luke towed Dalts, Coggo, Axel, Harpo, Kev & Specialised Tony to Rudd Rd. The headwind dished out the pain for all (Harpo happy in the back seat), particularly those beside Nath (champing at the bit). Dion joined in along Ford Rd and after the pennance of a few turns each, relief awaited pointing toward the Toaster with the breeze at our left shoulder. I'd paired with Robbo for the nirvana of Old Dookie Rd, 3k's of 40+ driving the 56/11, heart rate ticking over at 140, cranks at 64 rpm. Reality came back dealing with the side wind down Boundary Rd but utopia awaited again in River Rd. Nath stretched the bunch, many tucking in behind as mid fourties registered. Only Robbo, Dion & Luke went with him when the gaps opened, the remaining wounded formed up in survival mode, Kev, Dalts and I providing the tow. Settled into a steady tempo till the turn into Mitchell, Coggo finally fronting, donating a big surge. He'd opened a gap cresting Mt.Nicolaci but we'd almost reformed at the highway when traffic spit us apart again. Coggo and Kev drew away toward Roubaix, my sympathies lay with Dalts and Tony stalled for traffic so waited to form a trio for the 4k home. By the horse stud we'd reeled in Kev, by Arcadia Downs we'd caught Coggo, all aboard the good ship survival against a now northeast torment blowing at 26. Kev got us out of the dipper and left me to take the reigns for the last 400, nobody keen to sprint under the circumstances.
Kitted up and just out the door before noticing (comatosed from the Col du Tourmalet & Montee du Hautacam five hours earlier) that earlier showers had dampened the Friday track. Oh well, carpe diem et al etcetera. Pointed the wheels out New Dookie Rd to avoid the freaky Friday fast footed fiesta from fifty-one & frantic felines. Committed to the line through the Lemnos roundabout when a manic Magna suddenly overtook then veered left (pondered the prat's parentage). Legs sent a memo of complaint about last nights' dip, content to tap along on the aerobic limit, steering round the Boundary Rd traffic island (camouflaged in the dark) by memory. Tap tap south, well ahead of the SuperCats, I set a short route for Channel Rd (homage de Harpo?), enough k's covered this week me thinks. Spray off the wheels biased left from the light northerly, enjoyed the 8k's homeward tuned out to the world. A soggy cycle through town ended the week, back home to my cold loungeroom, because I have to go to work (pasteurised soft cheeses in my lunch?), so I dried my bike (not) with a kangaroo, to prepare for week 31.
Week 30 327km YTD 8,003km
Word of the week
"Rideranged" (adjective) A cyclist of questionable sanity
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